


French Toast

by JediAnnieScrambler



Series: Tumblr 200 Follower Celebration [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Cooking, Cooking Lessons, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-28
Updated: 2014-12-28
Packaged: 2018-03-04 02:02:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2905220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JediAnnieScrambler/pseuds/JediAnnieScrambler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rumple has a reaction to Belle’s cooking and decides to take a hands on approach and teach her to cook.</p>
            </blockquote>





	French Toast

Rumpelstiltskin stared dubiously at the plate in front of him, “What is this?”

 

“Your dinner,” his maid Belle said, a hint of challenge in her voice. She had been in the castle for under a week and her home cooked meals had been found dangerous, to say the least.

 

Rumpelstiltskin raised an eyebrow, but took a bite. And another. It was surprisingly not horrible as he'd finished half the plate when it happened.

 

First he coughed, politely into his napkin, then vigorously, shaking the table. He sneezed, giant, purple magic sneezes that turned the fork into a lizard and the knife into a snake. Shaking slightly, eyes red and runny, he turned on his maid, pointing an accusing finger.

 

“You! What did you do?” he snapped.

 

“I- I-” she stammered, “I didn't mean to.”

 

“You tried to poison me!” he yelled.

 

“I did not!” she yelled equally as loud.

 

“Then why did you make me that!?” he flailed at the plate.

 

“I DON'T KNOW HOW TO COOK!” she shouted.

 

This quieted the dark one. Belle stood in front of him, red faced, hands balled into fists. She looked angry, but her lip trembled and there were tears in her eyes.

 

“Oh,” Rumpelstiltskin whispered walking towards her. In a quick and sudden movement that made Belle jump, he whipped out a handkerchief.

 

“Here. Dry your eyes.”

 

“Thank you,” she sniffled.

 

“And I will teach you how to cook,” he said, “so you don't kill me.”

 

“I'd like that,” she replied, then hastily added, “I mean, I'd like to not kill you! That would be sad.”

 

“Hm. Well, meet me in the kitchen tomorrow morning, we will start with breakfast.”

 

The next morning Belle was up bright and early, in the kitchen. Rumpelstiltskin strolled in a snapped his fingers. 

 

“Alright Dearie! Your cooking lesson starts now! We are making french toast, so get out bread, milk, eggs, vanilla, and butter.”

 

Belle hurried to fetch the ingredients, putting them on the island counter. Rumpelstiltskin got out a shallow bowl, a cutting board and knife, and a frying pan.

 

“First,” he said, holding up a finger, “crack three eggs into this bowl.”

 

He demonstrated with one egg then passed the others on to her. She completed the task with little difficultly although she had to scrape a few shells out of the bowl.

 

“That's fine dearie, it takes practice,” Rumpelstiltskin said pouring in a little milk, “Here, add some vanilla, just a few drops now, not too much.”

 

Belle complied then mixed the ingredients as directed. Then he gestured to her to come stand between him and the counter.

 

“Now,” he said, standing behind her, “We slice the bread.”

 

Belle took the knife as her master moved the bread and cutting board in front of them. He took both of her hands in his and guided her hold the bread. She could feel his warm breath on her throat.

 

“Carefully slice the bread,” he said guiding her, “we would not want you to hurt yourself, do we?”

 

“N-no,” she whispered, not used to having him this close.

 

Rumpelstiltskin must have noticed her change in demeanor for he pulled away and flapped his hands in her direction, “Go on, finishing slicing and then dip the bread in the bowl. Make sure to coat both sides in the egg.”

 

Meanwhile, the dark one put butter in the frying pan heated it up over the stove.

 

“Like this?” Belle held up her bowl of soggy bread.

 

“Maybe a little less soggy next time, dear,” he said taking the bowl, “now we cook the bread in the pan and, voila! French toast.”

 

Belle giggled. Rumpelstiltskin fried the first two pieces, demonstrating how, before turning his frying pan over to Belle.

 

“Be careful, now,” he said, hovering, “Don't burn your self.”

 

“Why are you so worried about me?” Belle asked, smiling, “I'm not that clumsy.”

 

Rumpelstiltskin stiffened, “What good would you be, little maid, if you got hurt? Besides, it's not like I care or anything.”

 

“Of course not,” Belle said, grinning, but watching the toast, “That would be silly.”

 

Once the french toast was finished, Belle scooped it onto two plates and poured some milk into glasses. Rumpelstiltskin pulled out a jar of powdered sugar.

 

“Just a finishing touch,” he said letting her sprinkle it on top.

 

“Here,” he sliced a piece and held the fork up for her to take a bite. Belle smiled and ate off of his fork, making a face as she chewed.

 

“And?” he asked, “how'd you do?”  
  


“It's yummy!” Belle said, “Thank you for teaching me, cooking is a bit easier than I thought.”

 

“Think nothing of it, dear,” he said and reached forward wide a touch of white sugar from her face.


End file.
